Relocating to a new country comes with many adjustments. From harsh weather to new accents, food, and, of course, dating. One minute, you’re in Lagos dodging “WYD?” texts from Nigerian men who do the barest minimum, and the next, you’re trying to decode if “we should hang out sometime” from your Asian colleague means actual plans or just small talk.
To understand how dating transforms post-japa, I spoke to six Nigerians in the UK, US, and Canada about their experiences. From shocking culture shifts to new relationship standards, here’s how life after relocation has changed their love lives.
“The streets are cold, and so is the weather” — *Amaka, 27 (moved to the UK in 2021)
What was your dating life like in Nigeria, and how does it compare to where you are now?
Dating in Lagos was chaotic but active. I had options, even when I wasn’t looking. If I wanted to meet someone, all I had to do was blink, and a man would appear, sometimes too many at once. There were talking stages, but at least they moved at full speed. Now? If I don’t actively put myself out there, I might as well retire from dating because men here don’t chase, and I refuse to run after anyone.
The worst part is that I came here thinking I’d finally escape the struggles of dating in Lagos. But at least in Nigeria, I was actively dodging men left and right. Now, I’m the one trying to get any movement at all.
What’s been the biggest dating culture shock since you relocated?
The passiveness! A guy will be interested in you, text you every day, like your pictures, and even flirt. But when it’s time to actually make plans? Silence. How can I be the one strategising where and when we’ll meet? I thought men were natural hunters; what happened to that instinct?
I once matched with a guy on Hinge who seemed eager at first. We talked for a week, and not once did he mention meeting in person. When I finally asked what was up, he said, “Oh, I just assumed we’d keep chatting for a while before deciding.” Sir, are we pen pals? I unmatched immediately. Nigerian men may stress you, but at least they try.
Have your relationship preferences or standards changed since moving?
Oh, definitely. I’ve realised I prefer directness. Before, I entertained men who were vibes and freestyling their way through dating, but now? If you’re not intentional, abeg, go away. I also used to think I was okay with casual dating, but after a few months here, I know I need someone who shows effort. Texting is not enough, plan a date, be excited to see me, make me feel wanted. The men here just don’t have that sense of urgency.
If you could bring one thing from Nigerian dating culture to your new country, what would it be?
Men who chase. Nigerian men will lie and cheat, but one thing they will do is apply pressure. These UK men think sending a “wyd?” text every two days is enough. I need effort. Where’s the man who will send a driver to pick me up? Where’s the one who will plan a whole date, not just say, “What do you want to do?” I miss the drama of Lagos dating. At least there, I knew I was wanted.
“Dating in the US feels like a business transaction” — *Bisi, 27 (moved to the US in 2021)
What was your dating life like in Nigeria, and how does it compare to where you are now?
It was easy — not because it was always great, but because there were clear expectations. I dated men who provided financially and emotionally for everything. Even if they weren’t rich, they cared about the little things, like sending lunch money, ordering an Uber, or just making me feel looked after.
Here? It’s a different ballgame. Everyone is so independent that dating almost feels transactional. It’s like, “I take care of myself, you take care of yourself, and we’ll occasionally come together for vibes.” But where’s the romance? The intentionality? The softness?
What’s been the biggest dating culture shock since you relocated?
Nobody is taking care of you. At all. In Nigeria, even broke men would find a way to spoil their babes with small gifts, data, and pay for a meal here and there. The thought was there. Meanwhile, in the US? A guy will invite you to dinner, let you order steak, and then when the bill comes, he’s pulling out his phone, “So, you wanna split?” Sir, I don’t. One even asked if I had CashApp to send him back $5 because he covered the tip.
At first, I thought maybe I was dating cheap men, but then I realised this is normal here. People see relationships as partnerships from day one. That’s great if that’s what you want, but I wasn’t ready for the culture shock.
Have your relationship preferences or standards changed since moving?
Definitely, I used to be soft life or nothing. If a man wasn’t showing effort financially, I wasn’t interested. But now, I understand why US people are so focused on partnership. Life is expensive here. Nobody has the time or money to carry someone else entirely.
That said, I still believe in romance. There has to be a balance. I’ve realised I don’t need a man to provide for me, but I want to feel cared for. It doesn’t have to be about money; it can be about effort — planning dates, making thoughtful gestures, showing me I matter.
If you could bring one thing from Nigerian dating culture to your new country, what would it be?
Men courting women. This “let’s just vibe” culture here is exhausting. Nobody wants to define anything. You’ll go on five dates, meet their friends, even spend the night at their place, and they’ll still say, “I don’t really like labels.” Sir, what are we doing then? I want a man to say, “I like you, I want to be with you, let’s build something.” Is that so hard?
“I went from zero dating options to too many” — *Charles, 27 (moved to Canada 2023)
What was your dating life like in Nigeria, and how does it compare to where you are now?
Non-existent. Being queer in Nigeria meant dating was mostly theory, not practice. The few times I tried, it was through friends of friends, people who had been vetted to make sure they weren’t homophobic or trying to set me up. Even then, the paranoia never really left.
I never got to experience casual dating. Every interaction felt like a risk — meeting in hidden spots, pretending we were just friends in public, overthinking every glance or touch. It was stressful, so at some point, I stopped trying altogether.
Then I moved to Canada, and suddenly, I had options — too many options. Dating apps actually work here. I can hold my partner’s hand in public. I can exist without fear. It’s freeing but also overwhelming. I went from nothing to everything and adjusting hasn’t been easy.
What’s been the biggest dating culture shock since you relocated?
How fast people move. I went on three dates with someone, and by the fourth, they were talking about meeting my family. Family ke? I barely knew their last name.
In Nigeria, we’re used to coded dating. Things progress slowly, and there’s always an unspoken understanding that certain things take time. Here? One date and people are already discussing long-term plans. A friend of mine went on one date, and by the second, the person had deleted their dating app and was introducing them as “my partner.”
I get that people in queer communities here can move faster because there’s no fear attached, but my Nigerian wiring still struggles with the intensity.
Have your relationship preferences or standards changed since moving?
100%. In Nigeria, I had no expectations because a real relationship felt impossible. I assumed I’d have to keep my love life hidden forever.
Now? I want a proper relationship — not just sneaky links or coded situationships. I want a partner I can go on dates with, introduce to my friends, and post without panicking. Being in a country where that’s actually possible has made me realise how much I want it.
If you could bring one thing from Nigerian dating culture to your new country, what would it be?
The mystery. The chase. The excitement of coded flirting. Here, everything is so out there. People are too open about their feelings from day one. There’s no tension, no build-up. You match with someone on an app, and within five minutes, they’ve told you their entire dating history and childhood trauma.
In Nigeria, we mastered the art of subtle moves. I miss that energy.
“I went from dating for marriage to exploring other possibilities” — *Samuel, 33 (moved to the UK in 2020)
What was your dating life like in Nigeria, and how does it compare to where you are now?
In Nigeria, I was mostly into traditional relationships — dating solely for marriage. It was all about meeting the right person, making sure they aligned with my family’s expectations, and following the script: courtship, introduction, wedding, and then, kids. That was the path, and I never questioned it.
Since moving to the UK, my perspective has shifted entirely. I don’t feel the same urgency to settle down anymore. Here, people approach relationships differently. It’s more about companionship and personal happiness than meeting societal expectations. No one is pressuring me to get married because I’m in my thirties. And for the first time, I’m asking myself, “Do I even want marriage the way I once thought I did?”
What’s been the biggest dating culture shock since you relocated?
The openness. Back home, relationships are very structured; you date, get engaged, and marry. But here, people explore different relationship structures, and it’s not seen as taboo.
I once went on a date with a woman who casually mentioned she was in an open relationship. She wasn’t sneaky about it; she was transparent and laid everything out on the table. That conversation blew my mind. I couldn’t imagine that happening in Nigeria, where even talking about non-traditional relationships is almost forbidden.
It’s not just polyamory, either. People date casually for years without feeling pressured to make it official. There’s also the culture of cohabitation before marriage, which is still a big deal in Nigeria. Here, it’s normal. You can live together and see if marriage even makes sense before making that commitment.
Have your relationship preferences or standards changed since moving?
Yes. I no longer see marriage as the only goal. I’m more open to different types of commitment, even if they’re not forever.
Before relocating, I saw relationships as a means to an end; you date to get married. Now, I understand that relationships can be valuable even if they don’t last a lifetime. I don’t feel guilty about exploring things without expecting it to lead to marriage.
If you could bring one thing from Nigerian dating culture to your new country, what would it be?
Family involvement. I used to complain about it in Nigeria because it felt overbearing, but now that I’m here, I kind of miss it. Relationships in the UK feel so detached from family life. You can date someone for years, and their parents might never know you exist.
In Nigeria, meeting the family is a huge step. Even if it comes with pressure, it also gives relationships a sense of community because you’re not just dating a person; you’re joining their entire world. Here, relationships can feel isolated, and I sometimes miss the closeness that comes with having family involved.
TAKE THE QUIZ: What’s Your Relationship Energy for 2025?
“I thought I was just dating, turns out I was a pathway to citizenship” — *Chiamaka, 30 (moved to Canada in 2019)
What was your dating life like in Nigeria, and how does it compare to where you are now?
I wasn’t really dating in Nigeria; it was just endless talking stages — the kind where you think you’re getting somewhere, but six months later, you realise you’re still in vibes and inshallah territory.
When I moved to Canada, I was excited to finally start dating properly. I thought, new country, new approach, fresh start! But it didn’t take long to realise that dating here comes with fine print. A lot of people aren’t just dating for romance; they’re looking for marriage as a means to secure their immigration status.
What’s been the biggest dating culture shock since you relocated?
The first time someone asked me if I’d consider marriage for papers, I actually laughed. I thought he was joking. He wasn’t. He had a complete presentation on how it would benefit both of us.
I’ve had multiple experiences like that, and I’m not even a Canadian citizen yet — I’m on my way there, but people already see me as a ticket to PR. It’s wild. Before I take anyone seriously, I have to ask myself: Does he actually like me, or does he want a Canadian passport?
And it’s not just Nigerians. Africans from other countries, even people from other continents, play this game. I once met a guy who was so into me. He seemed perfect — funny, attentive, good conversation. Then, two weeks in, he randomly asked if I’d consider “helping” someone get their papers. The way I blocked him so fast!
Have your relationship preferences or standards changed since moving?
100%. Back in Nigeria, I got into lots of situationships. If I liked you and we had chemistry, that was enough. But now, liking someone isn’t nearly enough. I ask myself if we’re compatible and want the same things in the long term.
There’s also the commitment issue. I used to be okay with casual relationships, but now, I’m much more intentional. I don’t have time for people who just want to enjoy the moment when I know they’re also scanning me for my residency status.
If you could bring one thing from Nigerian dating culture to your new country, what would it be?
Romantic audacity. Nigerian men may be stressful, but one thing about them? They chase you properly. They’re intentional. They don’t do this three-month talking stage nonsense. Here, people can text you forever without making a move. I once spoke to a guy for over seven weeks, but there was no plan to meet. I had to spell it out like, “Are we going to see or are we just pen pals?” Meanwhile, in Nigeria, a man will meet you today, ask you out tomorrow, and start calling you his wife by the weekend. It’s a lot, but at least it’s direct.
“Dating here is an extreme sport” — Jide, *34 (moved to the US in 2023)
What was your dating life like in Nigeria, and how does it compare to where you are now?
Back in Nigeria, dating was tricky, but at least it had structure. If you were lucky enough to find someone, things progressed through friendship groups and social circles. Everyone knew who was safe to approach, and we all moved with discretion.
Here in the US? It’s like a full-time job. There’s no natural flow to meeting people. Everyone is on dating apps, and if you don’t actively put yourself out there, you might as well retire from dating. I miss organic connections. I don’t want to swipe my way into a relationship; I want to meet someone naturally.
What’s been the biggest dating culture shock since you relocated?
People here date multiple people at the same time, and it’s normal. I once went on three dates with a guy and thought we were building something. Then, on the fourth date, he casually mentioned going on a weekend trip with another man he was dating. I nearly choked on my drink. In Nigeria, even unserious people pretend they’re exclusive. Here? You have to ask to be exclusive; even then, it’s not guaranteed.
I’ve also noticed that emotional availability is so different here. A lot of queer men in Nigeria, myself included, had to fight even to have relationships, so when we did find someone, we held on tight. Here, because there’s freedom to date openly, many people take it for granted — it’s casual and nonchalant. I wasn’t prepared for that.
Have your relationship preferences or standards changed since moving?
I used to be okay with taking things slow, but now? I need clarity. If I like you, I want to know where we stand immediately. No more six-month situationships where nobody knows what’s going on.
I’ve also lowered some of my expectations. In Nigeria, we had this romantic intensity because queer relationships were high-risk. Every moment mattered because we never knew when we’d have to return to pretending. Here, I’ve learned that relationships don’t always have to be that deep. Sometimes, people are just exploring. It’s been an adjustment.
If you could bring one thing from Nigerian dating culture to your new country, what would it be?
I guess it’s small romantic gestures. Nobody here does the “Have you eaten?” check-ins, and I miss that. In Nigeria, even when we couldn’t say certain things openly, we showed love through little things like buying food, sending money, and checking in during the day.
Here, people can go days without speaking to you, and it’s not seen as a problem. One time, I told a guy I was having a stressful day, and he just said, “Damn, that sucks.” No solution, no “Do you want to talk about it?” just “Damn.” I need a middle ground, the freedom of dating abroad but with the intentionality of Nigerian romance.
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